


circadian rhythm

by robotsdontcry



Series: family (lost and found) [1]
Category: Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997), Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:20:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24829744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robotsdontcry/pseuds/robotsdontcry
Summary: Tifa says, “I want to get stronger. I have to.”Something inside Barret softens. Of course this is what it’s about.
Relationships: Tifa Lockhart & Barret Wallace
Series: family (lost and found) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1796014
Comments: 6
Kudos: 24





	circadian rhythm

Barret finds Tifa in the abandoned warehouse turned gym, beating the hell out of a punching bag. By now, he knows better than to be surprised.

He crosses the length of the gym before she notices him. After a rapid flurry of punches followed by a powerful uppercut (she's improved a lot, he observes with pride), Tifa stops and wipes at her forehead with the back of her hand, then turns around.

“What—how long have you been there?”

Barret shrugs. “Just got here.”

At the back of the gym, behind the barbells and bench press, the punching bags are neatly lined up in a row. Tifa steps away from them, her posture defensive. There’s some guilt in it, too. She watches him intently, probably expecting him to launch into a long lecture, but Barret’s not quite in the mood.

He tosses a can of ice-cold soda at her. “Drink up.”

“Thanks,” Tifa says, grateful and obviously surprised. She turns it over to inspect the label. “Hey, where’d you get this? They only sell this in Sector Two.”

“Found 'em on the way home,” Barret lies. Tifa doesn’t look totally convinced, but she cracks it open and takes a sip.

Barret watches her before opening his own can, sees her shoulders straighten and the hard lines leave her face. Then he plunks himself down on a bench and takes a swig from his drink, making a face when the cold, sweet liquid hits his tongue. He’s never understood why she likes it so much, but hey—as long as it makes her happy, he’ll go out of his way to buy some.

“You’re not going to say anything?” Tifa ventures, breaking the silence.

Barret frowns, fingers clenching around the canned drink. He sets it down with a little too much force. “You oughta be glad I’m not gonna tell the others,” he says. “Jessie’d probably lock you up or something.”

“I know.” Tifa lowers her gaze, her shoulders slumping. 

Barret doesn’t miss the way she puts her weight on her right leg as she walks over, a wince accompanying every movement. Her left leg, which she injured in a run-in with a couple of Shinra foot soldiers a few weeks ago, is still in a boot.

Better him here than any of the others. Jessie took an immediate liking to Tifa when they first met a year ago, eager to have another female join their rag-tag group. Barret would be lying if he said it didn’t warm a heart as cold and hard as his, watching Jessie fret over her like a mother bird. Biggs and Wedge quickly accepted her as one of their own, and Marlene liked her right away. That was all Barret needed, really.

"You really shouldn’t be workin’ out yet,” he says, because someone has to, even though it pains him to be the one saying it. No matter how earnestly Tifa cares for others, he knows she hates feeling like a burden.

“It doesn’t hurt that much anymore.”

Barret makes a noise that’s somewhere between a sigh and a groan. Tifa’s glaring at the floor. She can be as stubborn as hell when she wants.

Tifa says, “I want to get stronger. I have to.”

Something inside Barret softens. Of course this is what it’s about.

“I used to train twice a day, every day,” she continues, still not looking at him. “I’d wake up at dawn and practice, then go to the dojo in the afternoons. My martial arts instructor always said that strength doesn’t come naturally. You have to work for it.”

“Some teacher he was,” Barret mutters, “running off and leaving you to fight Shinra all by yourself.”

Tifa’s eyes flash. “He didn’t run away,” she says.

To Barret, it sure seems like he did, leaving her in the middle of a cold, cruel city to fend for herself. He doesn’t know how she survived those first few weeks on her own—hell, he still doesn’t know where she even came from in the first place. All he knows is during that time she was listening and watching, doing her own research, waiting.

He knows better than to ask. Tifa always clams up whenever her instructor, or her past in general, comes up, so he changes the subject.

“When I first met you,” Barret says, “I thought, there’s no way this girl could throw a punch to save her life.”

“Yeah,” Tifa says, a wry smile tugging at her lips. It’s barely there, but he’ll take it. “This is an eco-terrorist group, not a scrapbooking club. That’s what you told me.”

Barret coughs. He thinks back to when she stood inside the Seventh Heaven for the first time, asking to join Avalanche. No matter how scrawny she looked, it was a stupid thing to say, even for him. “Sorry about that,” he offers lamely.

“It’s okay,” Tifa says. “You weren’t wrong.”

“Huh?”

“I mean, I could barely mix a drink back then, let alone fight.”

“You gotta give yourself more credit,” Barret says firmly. “You could fight just fine. I wasn’t expectin’ it from you, is all.”

Tifa exhales. Her gloved fingers curl into fists and clench tight. “Back then, I wasn’t strong,” she insists. “I couldn’t protect anyone. Even now—I think I’m still trying to prove myself wrong.”

Barret rubs at his gun-arm, out of habit. Some days the itch of a phantom limb is stronger than usual, and this is one of those days. 

Somehow, he knows that Tifa’s like him. The same fire that burns in him, fierce and hungry for revenge, is also inside her. Maybe, he thinks grudgingly, they both need to learn how to wait. How to let things go.

“You’ve got nothing to prove,” Barret says. “Not to me, not to anyone. Not even yourself. Got it?”

For a moment Tifa looks like she’s about to argue. Her hands unclench, then clench again. Her gaze is fixed on some point on the wall.

Then she nods. Her posture straightens, her shoulders loosening up. “Yeah.”

Barret downs the rest of his drink with a grimace, then aims the empty can at a nearby trash can. He misses by a yard. Tifa stifles a laugh behind her hand and he makes a show of scowling. That, at least, is a relief.

He stands and turns toward the sliver of sun peeking through the steel sky, in a strange city where home for the both of them means a dusty bar lying in a maze of dirt-covered streets. “C’mon,” he says. “Let’s get out of here.”

**Author's Note:**

> the first of a series focusing on the theme of found family. i loved the relationship between these two in the game :)


End file.
